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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544741">(They Were) Made For Us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/setoboo/pseuds/Echuta'>Echuta (setoboo)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Star Wars: Attack of the Clones, F/M, Fellows is it gay to run away from a war together? Asking for the whole Jedi Order, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Multi, Protective Jedi (Star Wars), Protective clones, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious Being an Asshole, Tatooine Slave Culture (Star Wars), That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), The Force, no beta we die like liberty with thunderous applause, which is a whole ass mood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:42:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29544741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/setoboo/pseuds/Echuta</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Kaminoan tilts his head with a small smile. As if he’s trying to be indulgent for the Jedi’s sake. “Well yes, you and your fellow Jedi, Master Kenobi. They were made for the Jedi - and since the Jedi serve the Republic. It was implied they would do so too.”</p><p><i>‘They were made for the Jedi.’</i> Obi-Wan thinks in a daze. Clinging to that one sentence and grappling with all the implications buried within it as the Force around him pulses with tension. <i>‘For...for us? For me?’</i></p><p>What can that possibly mean? </p><p>----------------</p><p>Or; the Clones are really, and truly, perfectly made for the Jedi. The <i>real</i> issue is that it seems the Jedi are just as perfectly made for the Clones. This throws a major wrench in the works for the Darkside when the Jedi aren't very willing to let their men die. Not even on the senate's orders.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Anakin Skywalker, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Tell me, Prime Minister, when Master Sifo-Dyas first contacted you about this...army, did he say who it was <em> for </em>?”</p><p>Lama Su’s face is a placid mask that Obi-Wan has seen on every politician in the galaxy, from the Core Worlds all the way to the Outer Rim. It is neutral, blank, vaguely friendly, and absolutely <em> infuriating. </em>Even on the best of days. </p><p>Obi-Wan is not having the best of days at the moment. </p><p>“Of course he did.” Lama Su answers gamely enough. Seemingly untroubled by Obi-Wan’s probing questions. “This army serves the Republic.”</p><p>And for a moment - a wet, cold, <em> tired </em> moment - Obi-Wan almost lets it go. Almost doesn’t notice the tiny difference in the answer. Almost overlooks the careful maneuvering from the Prime Minister’s reply that isn’t <em> technically </em> the answer to his original question.</p><p>But Obi-Wan <em> does </em> catch it though, and he pounces on the difference before the conversation can be steered away. “They are <em> for </em> the Republic?” He asks as if confused. Stretching the word <em> for </em> , in place of <em> serve </em>.</p><p>The Prime Minister blinks only once. A slow closing and opening of his space black eyes, but the hesitation causes Obi-Wan to hone in on the politician like an Akk-dog with a bone as Lama Su speaks. “They serve the republic, yes, though I suppose if you wish to be technical, Master Jedi. The Clones were made<em> for </em> you.” </p><p>Despite knowing there was more to it than the first answer, Lama Su’s words hit him like a speeder. “Me?” He wheezes. Grappling to keep his own placid mask in place as a bolt of panic arcs down his spine. </p><p>The Kaminoan tilts his head with a small smile. As if he’s trying to be indulgent for the Jedi’s sake. “Well yes, you and your fellow Jedi, Master Kenobi. They were made for the Jedi - and since the Jedi serve the Republic. It was implied they would do so too.”</p><p>‘<em>They were made for the Jedi. </em> ’ Obi-Wan thinks in a daze. Clinging to that one sentence and grappling with all the implications buried within it as the Force around him pulses with tension. ‘<em>For...for us? For me?’ </em> </p><p>What can that possibly mean? </p><p>“Now come,” Lama Su says as he starts to stand up from the austere white chair he’s been perched on. “I’m sure you would like to inspect your product, Master Jedi. Doubtlessly you will be most pleased by what we have accomplished here.” </p><p>On autopilot he agrees, and allows himself to be toured through the facility. The Force around him is stretched tight like a band. Trembling taut. And before Obi-Wan even gets his first proper look at the little tubes that house the yet unborn clones. He knows that everything he’s ever known is about to change.</p><p>The hundreds - <em> No </em> - The <em> thousands </em> of containers around him sparkle like starlight. Every tube holds a spark of life that is all its own. A little wisp of color. Of sound. Of taste and smell. There is so much to see and take in amongst these infants alone that his whole mind just stalls. He has seen Senatorial home-worlds with less connection to the Living Force than this one room in a lab. Walked through whole sections of Coruscant that seemed drab and monochrome in comparison.</p><p>“Very impressive.” He flatters the Kaminoans beside him without conscious thought. Letting himself be led along the winding hallways and staying mostly silent as they go. He’s hardly able to think at the moment, let alone ask questions about what he is seeing.</p><p>“I’d hoped you would be pleased.” Lama Su bows his head in acknowledgement of Obi-Wan’s words.</p><p>The Prime Minister and his aide continue to talk to him, to upsell the usefulness and cleverness of their ‘product’. But Obi-Wan can barely breathe as the Force tenses further still as he is led past a room full of younglings all doing combat sims. The children down below him burn brighter than the Kaminoans do. All of them are so wonderfully luminous and unique.</p><p>There is one child in the back on the left side, with his tongue sticking out of his mouth - <em> just a little </em> - as he works on his simulation. A small wisp of black hair curling out from under his helmet as he leans in. There is almost nothing to tell this one child apart from the masses around him, except for the fact that Obi-Wan would be able to tell this child apart from everyone backwards and blindfolded. He resonates so bright to the Jedi’s senses. </p><p>The boy's presence in the Force is just <em> right </em>. Downy and fuzzy like a well worn blanket. His whole aura painted a cozy Sunset-Orange, and tinged with hints of something herbal that coats Obi-Wan’s tongue like the Yuuma Tea from the Temple Gardens he loves. He hears the Force around the child sing with strings and steady poetry, and Obi-Wan can barely keep himself from asking for a tour of the simulation room just to get a little closer.</p><p>He’s led further along, and further away from the child that enthralled him so by Lama Su and his aide. Both are enthusing on how much more <em> creative </em> and <em> reactive </em> the Clone are than droids. Calling them superior in every way. Explaining how quickly they will grow, how easily they take commands. </p><p>Obi-Wan is not listening,<em> can’t </em> listen. Because he’s being shown some sort of cafeteria crammed with thousands of bright colors and sounds and tastes. Thousands of individuals are just below him, eating robotically under the Kaminoans black gaze.</p><p>But one Clone looks up as Obi-Wan looks down. Just one face amongst the sea of many manages to make eye contact with him, and the Force finally<em> snaps </em>.</p><p>The man below burns singularly Nova-bright to all of the Jedi’s senses. Yet with that same flavour as the child he saw prior. He is painted in crisp shades of Sunset-Golden Orange, and seeped in fragrant herbal tea. He echoes with a symphony of strings and voices that calls to the skies in <em> Glory </em> . He is not the blanket soft fuzz the child had been, but there is a steady comfort that threads through his presence regardless. Something that pulls at Obi-wan even more. Because he feels like the kind of man you can lean on and know he will not falter. Will not crumble. He’ll stand before the storm and <em> win </em>, every time.</p><p>The fleeting moment of eye contact breaks seconds later, and Obi-Wan feels like he breaks a little with it.</p><p>‘<em>They were made for us. </em>’ Obi-Wan thinks almost hysterically, as his eyes roam around the eating area and he feels at least six more men with a similar tang to their presence. Not copies, None of them the same, but variations on a theme. Of Sunset-Orange and herbal teas, of string music and comfort. Each presence is uniquely their own, and yet calls to him as if tailor made to send him to his knees. </p><p>He has to get out of here.</p><p>He turns back to the Kaminoans, finally engages with what they are saying and tries his siths-damned best to block out all the colors and sounds and souls glittering around him like a condensed nebula. It takes frighteningly little effort to guide the conversation back to his original topic. To learn about Jango Fett, the originator from which all these clones are grown, and to get Taun We to agree to letting them meet.</p><p>Obi-Wan lets himself be herded away from the labs, and tries to ignore the voice in the back of his head crying. ‘<em>They were made for me</em>. <em> I was made for them. </em>’ As he trudges further away.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Obi-Wan sends the Council his findings afterwards. Tells them of the Clone Army and the mysterious circumstances surrounding their origins. Describes in detail the facility he toured on Kamino and the slender race of sentients that own it. </p><p>He doesn’t mention how the Force had snapped around him, doesn’t say anything about the cozy child with flyaway hair doing training sims. He doesn’t mention the Six Clones that sang like home and comfort to his senses. </p><p>He doesn’t mention the one blinding,<em> glorious </em> presence in the cafeteria that almost brought him to his knees.</p><p>All he mentions is what Prime Minister Lama Su said.</p><p>“<em>The Clones were created for the Jedi. </em>”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Geonosis is the culmination of too much happening all at once.</p><p>He remembers fighting. Remembers rolling in sand, dodging talons and teeth, and wishing that he had spent more time learning staff techniques at the temple. He remembers elation at the sudden appearance of so many of his fellow Jedi, and the luminous hope that he and Anakin would make it out of this arena alive.</p><p>He remembers fighting. Remembers droids arriving in mass, while Masters Siwel and Han-Ma throw him and Anakin each their secondary lightsabers. Leaving the pair down to only one saber a piece despite their preference for Jar’Kai. He remembers wielding the strangely lightweight weapon and fighting for his life. Felling droids and returning blasterfire frantically. </p><p>He remembers fighting. And fighting. And <em> fighting </em>. And it is still not enough. They are surrounded by seemingly endless droids. Master Siwel is dead at his feet, and Dooku offers an ultimatum that he knows the trapped Jedi will not accept.</p><p>They are going to die here, in the sands of Geonosis, and all Obi-Wan can think about is how unfair it is that Anakin managed to escape one desert only to die in another.</p><p>Then suddenly ships appear from the clouds. Firing everything they have to beat back the encroaching line of droids. He spies Master Yoda in one of the ships, directing the Troopers on board to hold the perimeter while more ships land on blood-soaked sand. </p><p>And that's when it hits Obi-Wan; Master Yoda went and gathered up the Clones from Kamino to save them. He brought the Jedi’s army here.</p><p>A transport lands near them, and a Clone in plain white armor urges Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padme into it. His presence in the Force drips with royal blue, tastes like heady incenses, and there is a drumming warsong thundering around him as he shouts and signals them to move. Anakin looks like he’s been pole-axed by the Troopers appearance, and it takes Obi-Wan shoving his Padawan onto the transport to actually get him moving. No time to commiserate with the teen until they are safe.</p><p>There is so much fighting, so much<em> death</em> happening around them. He feels glittering stars from the Clones snuff out and die. Crushed into blank void space between breaths. He doesn’t let himself think about if any of them feel like Sunset-Orange comfort. Can’t bear it if they do.</p><p>Anakin guides their pilot (<em> Who feels of painted sunshine, tastes of copper, and sings like crystal </em>) on blowing up the rigs in front of them. A move that saves so many lives as the towers topple and crush the anti-aircraft guns and battle droids below. He breathes out a “Good job Padawan.” Which Anakin accepts with a grim nod. His attention divided between Padme, the Trooper that drips in royal blue, and the pilot.</p><p>They chase Dooku through the sand until their ship lurches from blasterfire and Padme disappears into the dunes below. Two troopers follow after her as the ship continues to rock. The first, who feels like a smoldering fire, and the second who is Anakin’s royal blue Clone. </p><p>“Padme!” Anakin yells as soon as the senator disappears, looking like he’s about to throw himself over the side after her. His panic increases twofold as the white armored Trooper that tastes of incense also falls. “No!” he howls into the wind as they keep flying.</p><p>“Anakin, stop!” Obi-Wan yells, cutting off the teen before he can throw himself overboard too. “You need to stay with me Padawan. We can’t lose Dooku now.”</p><p>Anakin breathes heavy for a long minute, his blue eyes trained behind them unerringly and tense. Obi-Wan braces himself to fight with Anakin more. Already cycling through arguments to try and sway his headstrong Padawan that he can not abandon him to go and save the senator now. </p><p>“<em>E chu ta! </em> ” Anakin swears in furious huttese, pounding a fist into the side of the ship before he turns to Obi-Wan. All the fire draining out of him as he shoves his anger into the Force. “Okay, okay. He’ll keep her safe. I know he will. Let's get this <em> sleemo </em> and then get back to them.”</p><p>Obi-Wan doesn’t have time to argue, or even question Anakin on his faith in a man he hasn't shared a single word with yet. The pilot gets them where they need to be and suddenly it is all Obi-Wan can do to keep standing as he wields his saber against Dooku. The bright flashing of lightsabers clashing, blue and green and red all swirling together all he can think about. </p><p>He remembers fighting. Remembers Dooku goading and insulting them as their blades clash. He remembers the pain of his right arm and leg getting clipped by Dooku’s saber, he remembers Anakin’s shriek of pain as his <em> arm was cut off</em>. Remembers the bile and nausea in his throat as he thinks. ‘<em>My fault, my fault, I made him follow me</em>.’ and how he could barely move as Dooku hovered over them.</p><p>Only Master Yoda’s timely arrival saves the pair, and he doesn’t honestly remember much after that.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Senate declares that the Jedi will no longer be Peacekeepers, and instead they will become Generals. Soldiers in a war that seems to appear overnight.</p><p>“We can’t do this.” Obi-Wan tells the Council as soon as the news comes crashing down on all of them. “We are not generals and warlords that the Senate can unleash upon the galaxy. We are keepers of the peace!”</p><p>“The will of the people, it is.” Yoda says with a tired rasp, his ears firmly aimed downward. “Fight to save the Republic, we must.”</p><p>There is yelling - so much yelling - and everyone in the Temple, from the youngest Padawans to the Grandmaster himself, has opinions on what is about to happen. Some in favor, most in outrage. Almost a thousand years of duty and tradition about to be shredded by the powers that be.</p><p>Obi-Wan lets them argue, sick and tired already with the knowledge of what is about to happen to them. </p><p>The Jedi have been forcefully drafted into this war, but there is no military draft being pulled from any of the senate worlds to compensate. Nor have any major planets pledged soldiers from their home-armies to this war. There are monetary donations and supplies pouring in of course. But those are the easy things for the senators to write off as doing their part. </p><p>No, the brunt of this war will be waged on the backs of the Jedi and the Clones alone it seems. Along with a handful of GAR officials necessary for the day to day operations that the Clones were not trained to handle. Which is staggeringly few all things considered. </p><p>Sadly, in the end, it doesn’t matter that most of the Temple is not in favor of war. They have been drafted, and so to war they must go. Obi-Wan is one of the first picked to have the dubious honor of being given a flagship and sent off to Kamino to pick up his troops. The excuse being that he’s already dealt with the Kaminoans before so it should be easier on him.</p><p>His ship has a skeleton crew. He meets a human woman on board who doesn’t introduce herself beyond the title of admiral, and he forces himself to meditate all the way to their destination.</p><p>When he arrives he is almost sent back to his knees as he is greeted by not only the Prime Minister, but also the nova-bright <em> glorious </em> trooper from before. Only this time instead of wearing a red uniform, he is decked head to toe in armor painted with stripes of Sunset-Orange that almost matches his presence in the Force.</p><p>“Ah Master Kenobi, welcome back.” Lama Su says politely. A small smile on his face that is no real comfort to anyone present. “We are ever so pleased to inform you that your battalion is ready for you. This is CC-2224, a Clone Commander with a very impressive record under his belt. He will perform most excellently for you.”</p><p>Obi-Wan darts his eyes between the glorious presence in front of him and Lama Su, a tight smile on his face as he debates being polite and being a touch spiteful for the way this trooper <em>(his trooper)</em> is being treated.</p><p>“My thanks, Prime Minister. I’m sure you have other things to do than oversee me and my commander here though. Please, have a most pleasant day.” He bows down low, mostly so he doesn’t show the smirk on his face as he feels a jolt of annoyance in the Force around Lama Su.</p><p>The Prime Minister is aware that pushing his presence when he has been dismissed will only make him seem petulant. So he bows in return. Voice clipped as he says. “Of course. Please do not hesitate to call upon my office should anything seem...out of line.” </p><p>Obi-Wan waits for the slender alien to disappear along with his aide before turning to the brilliant Sunset-Orange presence before him. Taking a second to bask in steady strength and perfectly steeped tea before he makes himself actually go through with speaking.</p><p>“Right well, I’m ever so sorry you had to witness that.” He shoots the man a playful grin despite the helm he’s wearing. “I can’t stand politicians you see, terrible flaw of mine.”</p><p>“Yes sir.” The nova-bright man says evenly. Nothing about his tone gives away his feelings. Nothing but his own vibrant presence in the Force that wavers with a flavor that seems like the tea is being oversteeped. He is pondering, thinking, maybe confused. The taste deepens another touch, and Obi-Wan cuts it off before it starts to become bitter.</p><p>“Anyways, I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. It is an honor to meet you.” He bows deeper to the Clone before him. Enjoying the way the man’s presence brightens slightly at his move. “The Prime Minister introduced you with a...serial number?” He asks in confusion.</p><p>“CC-2224, sir.” The Clone recites immediately.</p><p>“Ah, yes. Well…” Obi-Wan stands back up and rubs at the back of his neck. Feeling oddly like Anakin when he gets caught out and embarrassed. “Do you by chance have a name you prefer to be called? If you don’t that's fine too. Or even if you do have a name but you prefer your number designation. I just...don’t know what to call you?” he wants to smack himself for the rambling. What happened to all his vaunted negotiation skills and silver tongue? Why must they abandon him in his hour of need.</p><p>The man’s presence flickers sharply for a moment, as if he’s struggling with himself on how to answer. Which makes Obi-Wan immediately feel like a heel for putting the commander on the spot like this. Maybe he will get in trouble for having a name. Anakin has told him stories of the Nameless back on Tatooine. People who had no name but whatever their masters allowed them, and the punishments they could receive for daring to give themselves something so meaningful as a name.</p><p>Finally the commander seems to come to a decision, and his whole presence in the Force does <em> something. </em> Braces maybe. The sunset dims, the tea cools, and the symphony swoops into simplicity. The only thing that doesn’t waver is the steadiness of his presence.</p><p>“My name is Cody. Sir.” Cody says at last. Not even a tremble in his voice to belay his nerves.</p><p>“Cody.” Obi-Wan repeats the name, and smiles as his tongue bursts with the flavor of sweet sapir tea, the kind he only gets on his Name-Day. Too expensive for his meager Jedi allowance to afford year round. “Co-Adi? Codi? Kote?” He tastes the name in multiple languages. Laughing as he gets the strongest flavor from the Mandalorian word. “Oh of course, I knew you would be nothing less than <em> Glory</em>. Thank you, Cody.”</p><p>“You’re..welcome?” Cody’s voice wavers slightly. Confusion blatant is the air around him.</p><p>“Ah, I’m sorry.” Obi-Wan backtracks immediately with an embarrassed flush breaking out over his face as he realizes what he said. “When I saw you in the cafeteria before you had such a strong presence. I’m just thrilled to know I was right in the way I ah...perceived you.” There, that seemed less weird than saying. ‘<em>Your presence in the Force is so perfect and overwhelmingly glorious you almost made me cry.</em>’ </p><p>Well...Marginally better at least.</p><p>There is a pulse in Cody’s presence. The symphony crescendos louder, like his heart is beating faster. Surprise and shock lacing through Obi-Wan’s senses. “You…You saw me in the mess hall? Sir?”</p><p>All Obi-Wan can do is smile weakly at the question. Trying not to be horribly embarrassed at how poorly he’d handled first seeing Cody all those weeks ago. “You looked up at me when I was being escorted around by the Prime Minister. We made eye contact, though I know it was only briefly. I am not offended if you don’t remember.” </p><p>“I remember, sir.” Cody’s voice is tight and controlled, but something shimmers in his presence below the control. Something like<em> wonder </em>. </p><p>Obi-Wan sighs and forces himself to let go of the current conversation thread, though it is entirely against his will. He so badly wants to know what caused the cresting note of <em>wonder</em> in Cody. Wants to make it become a permanent addition to the man's Glorious presence. But instead he says. “All right, I suppose we should get on with the rest of this unfortunate mess then.” He sighs in disappointment. Because If he doesn’t make himself get on with this he is liable to just spend the rest of the day basking in Cody’s presence here in the entryway. “Do you know where the rest of the men are, Cody? Err.. Commander Cody?” He winces at his own misstep. “Forgive me, I'll get this right at some point today. Are you a commander like the Prime Minister implied, or a different rank entirely in the Republic Army?”</p><p>“Marshal Commander is my current rank, sir.” Cody clarifies without pause. Another ripple in his presence that seems to steady further, like rocks settling in after a landslide. “I also know which hanger bay your battalion is being gathered in, however I-” Cody swallows and cuts himself off, freezing like a tauntaun caught in speeder lights. He seems like he wants to say more, but doesn’t. </p><p>Obi-Wan almost smacks himself for his thoughtless oversight. Cody is a <em> soldier </em>. Cody isn't allowed to speak up, or to ask questions of his superiors without being prompted. The fact he asked about being seen in the mess hall must have rattled him deeply if he broke through what is likely years of conditioning just to inquire about it. Force preserve them all, this is a mess.</p><p>“Please Marshal Commander, speak freely.” Obi-Wan offers as soon as he realizes the problem. “I’m sure you can tell I’m in over my head here. Anything you might have to say, or advice to give, would be sorely appreciated.”</p><p>“Yes sir.” Cody agrees shortly, before turning his head minutely back and forth, checking the hallway to see if they are truly alone here. “I was simply about to say that I <em> believe </em> the Prime Minister intended to speak with you for longer, sir. The 212th is not scheduled to begin forming up for another standard hour.”</p><p>For a split second Obi-Wan wishes he could remember the vicious swears that Anakin likes to indulge in. Something disgusting and Huttese would perfectly fit how he’s feeling right now. “Of course he did.” Obi-Wan mutters as he pinches the bridge of his nose, before forcing himself to release his frustrations into the force. “And I sent him off early. Joy.”</p><p>“I can lead you to his office, sir.” Cody offers after a moment of Obi-Wan’s muttering. “If you would like.” He tacks on at the end, a little hesitant. </p><p>Obi-Wan momentarily indulges in the Commander’s presence instead of really listening. Leaning into the rock-steady comfort he radiates. Even confused and unsure, Cody shines like a beacon. He reaches out with Sunset-Orange tendrils and soothes at the Jedi’s ragged edges without knowing what he does. Cody is just gloriously perfect, and Obi-Wan is a horrible wretch for letting himself cling to this stranger like he’s the only port in a cosmic storm.</p><p>Lama Su voice suddenly echoes in his head again ‘<em>They were made for the Jedi. They were made for you.</em>’ </p><p>“No.” Obi-Wan denies quickly. Though he’s unsure if he’s disagreeing with Cody’s offer, or the ghostly voice of Lama Su haunting his thought. “I’m sure there are other things we can do while the men get ready. Things that do not involve politicians.” He clarifies after a second, not wanting the Trooper to think he’s being snapped at.</p><p>Cody inclines his head some, and his presence flickers again. Like it did when he was struggling to decide what to say when Obi-Wan asked over his name. Some sort of inner conflict that causes the taste of tea to become deeper. </p><p>“Sir, if you would like…” Cody noticeably hesitates as he speaks. “I could escort you around the facility. I’m sure there’s plenty the Kaminoans didn't bother to show you on your first tour.”</p><p>Obi-Wan lets out a breath of relief. “Oh yes, that sounds infinitely better. Please lead the way.”</p><p>“Yes sir.” Cody snaps a sharp salute and turns on his heel to start walking down the glowing white hallway. Obi-Wan right on his heels as he trots along. Happy to have something to do that doesn’t involve pandering to Lama Su and his cohorts. </p><p>Even happier to have something to distract himself away from the quiet voice in the back of his head that cries out over and over again. <em> ‘We were made for them. I was made for him. They were made for us.’  </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Buckle up lads, this is gonna be one hell of a trip.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>During the battle of Geonosis, Anakin is saved by a soldier in shining white armor. </p><p>On the surface, the trooper that saves him is nothing special. Just another body encased in solid white plastoid. The same as all the other troops that appeared from above the desert’s clouds to swoop in and save the day. Anakin’s soldier is just one more of the many hundreds of thousands landing in the dust to save the Jedi. Just another hard-shelled humanoid with a mass produced blaster firing at droids.</p><p>But below the surface, he can see the truth of his savior. And it’s all Anakin can do to not to fall to his knees in the bloodsoaked Geonosian sand as he is suddenly<em> drowning </em> in Deep-Water Blue.</p><p>The trooper's presence in the Force drips with it. Saturated in a shade that makes Anakin think back to stories from his childhood. Of the Children of the Mother who would find springs of deep blue water hidden within the endless caverns below the sand. The last respite for <em>Ar-Amu’s</em> children as they drink from the remnants of her tears while fleeing across the wastes from their <em> Depur </em>. </p><p>Stories like that are always the same. Because only those who will share with the rest of their brothers and sisters are able to find the wells. Only those who are kind, and selfless, and <em> noble </em> deserve to drink from it’s color <em> .  </em></p><p>Anakin can think of no better description for the soldier in front of him than <em> Noble </em>.</p><p>It fits them perfectly. As perfectly as the hint of incense on his tongue, the kind he remembers wafting through the Slave’s Quarter’s when he and his mother were still owned by Gardulla. Something heady, and rich that he’s never quite managed to find outside of the Outer Rim. </p><p>It fit’s them as perfectly as the drums that thunder in Anakin’s ears. A steady beat. Like the marching of feet, like a heart beating, like a storm approaching. </p><p>All of that alone nearly sends Anakin to his knees, but it is the last piece of this soldier’s signature that causes his eyes to burn with unshed tears.</p><p>Because beneath the drumming beat, and the incense, and the <em>Blue</em>. The true thing that almost ruins Anakin is the comforting hum of machinery that exists in the man’s very framework. The purr of a finely crafted motor, the hissing of pistons in motion, The precision in every whirling cog - and the<em> harrowing </em>feeling that all of Anakin’s life he has been missing this gear. This part of his own internal machinery that is just as vitally important to his existence as his own heart is. </p><p>He stalls like a corrupted droid. Frozen in the middle of the fight. And it is only thanks to Obi-Wan’s frantic guiding hands that he climbs into the shuttle in front of him instead of eating a blasterbolt to the face. </p><p>Padme climbs in before him, struggling up with the help of another trooper whose presence smolders like a banked fire. The movement gives him a clear view of her back. Which is still sluggishly bleeding from where the Nexu managed to get it’s claws into her. </p><p>The reminder of her injuries helps to ground him back in the present, spurring him to her side once he climbs aboard. Hovering at her back while the ship takes off. His Deep-Water Blue soldier appears on Padme’s other side and starts laying down covering fire as the ship ascends. Keeping his armored body in between the Droid’s attacks and them. Acting as a physical barrier in case any of the shots make it into the interior of the ship.</p><p>White-hot Panic eats at Anakin immediately when he notices what the soldier is doing. His trooper doesn’t deserve to get shot at for coming to their rescue! He should not be using himself as some sort of humanoid-shield! </p><p>(<em> Honestly the Banked-Fire trooper doesn’t deserve to get hurt either. Nor the Sunny pilot who tastes like copper-blood. None of them deserve this at all. </em>)</p><p>Across from their ship is another shuttle full of troops and at least two Jedi. Anakin squints against the smoke and kicked up dust, just managing to make out the elongated furry face of a Bothan in the other shuttle. Which means either Master Gaik or Knight Kin’das is inside, along with another Jedi who has their hood up. The troopers surrounding them are an array of vibrant colors. But his eyes catch the pilot of the other shuttle for just a moment. A glimpse of Dark Blue at the edges of his senses.</p><p>He reaches his awareness out towards them immediately. ‘<em> Another? </em> ’ Anakin thinks wildly. <em> ‘Are you part of me too?’. </em> Can there really be another part of himself out there like the Noble soldier in front of him? Another vital component that his body has clumsily chugged along without? </p><p>He never gets the chance to look closer at the Blue. Because before he manages to brush against the pilot and taste the rest of their presence in the Force, the other shuttle suddenly bursts into violent flames. Shot down by a stray bullet from the ground below. The spark of Blue inside guttering out within the span of a single breath.</p><p>Anakin rears back into himself as if he was the one shot. Horror crawling down his spine as he watches the shuttle spiral and break apart. Bodies falling out of the openings and crashing into the desert below.</p><p><em> ‘I’m so sorry.’ </em> He thinks hysterically as he watches the carnage. <em> ‘Even if you weren’t part of me, I’m so sorry you’re gone.’ </em></p><p>Grief washes over him like a tide and Anakin just wants this to be <em> over </em>, needs this to be done. So he reaches back out with the Force. Begging it to guide him on how to do something - anything - to stop this madness. </p><p>He barely hears himself guide the Sunny pilot on firing the ship’s weapons into some sort of fuel rigs. Stretching his senses out as far as he can over the battlefield. Feeling the sparks of thousands of Troopers in the Force around him. All of them bright and electric like he’s only ever felt from his fellow Jedi. </p><p>He doesn’t let himself look for more Blue sparks among the masses. Doesn't taste the air for incense. Doesn’t even let himself <em> think </em> about the gentle hum of perfectly tuned machinery. Instead he turns his eyes back to his Deep-Water Blue trooper. The <em> noble </em> soul who is still between him and the battlefield below.</p><p>Obi-Wan praises him as the Sunny pilot lands his shots and the fuel rigs explode into a rain of more shrapnel and fire. His voice is as quiet and tired as Anakin feels at the moment. But the words are meant as a kindness, so Anakin can at least acknowledge that. Nodding his head in acceptance of the words even though he can’t muster up the strength to verbally accept the praise.</p><p>They continue to fly across the desert. Hot on Count Dooku’s trail and gaining fast when the ship suddenly starts taking fire. The Sunny pilot curses up a hot streak as the shuttle rocks violently, and Anakin can only watch in horror as Padme falls overboard with a scream. Her white-clad figure immediately lost amongst the dunes. </p><p>“Padme!” He yells after her, desperate to lay eyes on the woman as she disappears. He tenses his muscles, ready to jump out after her when the shuttle rocks again. This time sending the Banked-Fire trooper tumbling out, swiftly followed by (<em> NoNo </em> <b> <em>No</em> </b> <em> !) </em>Anakin’s Deep-Water Blue soldier. “No!” He howls into the wind. Reaching out to try and do something. Grab them with his hands, with the Force. Anything besides watching another one of his gears slip between his fingers and become lost to the desert below.</p><p>His frantic reaching doesn’t manage to catch the man, but he does latch onto a tendril of his soldier’s presence. Finding them sore, and shocked, but blessedly alive. He can already tell the armored man is getting up, intent on scrambling towards the other two who fell nearby.</p><p>He moves to dive after them, but is halted by Obi-Wan's yelling of “Anakin, stop!”. His Master looks oddly harrowed, and for a wild second Anakin wonders if the older man also feels the sparks around them guttering out one by one. “You need to stay with me Padawan. We can’t lose Dooku now.” He says like a demand, but it sounds much more like a plea. </p><p>Anakin only feels fury at the mention of the Count. Because this is all Dooku’s fault! All these people dying, and Padme getting hurt, and the pilot that Anakin will never get to meet. He breathes heavily and struggles through the fire clawing through his veins. Keeping his eyes towards the dunes where he knows his Deep-Water Blue soldier is up and moving.</p><p>Finally he manages to unclench his jaw as he spits out. “<em> E chu ta! </em> ” while pounding on the side of the shuttle. Breathing for a moment before he turns back to Obi-Wan once he manages to shove his anger out into the Force. “Okay, okay. He’ll keep her safe. I know he will. Let's get this <em> sleemo </em>and then get back to them.”</p><p>Obi-Wan must understand somehow, because he doesn’t even ask who Anakin’s talking about. Just clasps him on the shoulder with a vaguely relieved smile as the Sunny Pilot continues to speed across the Geonosian sand.</p><p>When they finally get to Dooku, Anakin has worked himself back up into a blind fury. “You’ll pay for all the people you killed here today, Dooku!” He yells. Blind and deaf to anything else.</p><p>The fight goes terribly. Anakin is angry, and upset, and just<em> done </em> before they even start. Obi-Wan gets clipped by a lightsaber that bleeds red, and the action makes Anakin see red too. Sending him flying back at Dooku with a howl of vengeance. The fight goes better for a moment. But Jar’Kai has never been his preferred style and it only takes one misstep to end with him losing his <em> arm </em>. Which sends him to his knees with a scream of pain. Staring unseeing at the stump left behind before Dooku uses the Force to bodily throw him to where Obi-Wan is lying prone on the floor.</p><p>‘<em> What is one more lost component?’ </em> He thinks hysterically as he lands like a ragdoll, eyes hazy as he keeps staring at where his arm is gone. <em> ‘Just another part of me Dooku has taken away today.’ </em></p><p>Thankfully they are saved by Yoda’s timely arrival, but Anakin passes out before the fight finishes. Completely lost to the world.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>When Anakin wakes in the Halls of Healing, he knows something terrible has happened.</p><p>It’s painted on Obi-Wan’s face as he sits beside Anakin’s hospital bed. His eyes dark and sunken with lack of sleep.</p><p>“Master.” He rasps, calling the copper-haired man’s attention to him with a jolt. </p><p>“Anakin!” Obi-Wan says in return. Voice more emotive than Anakin has heard in years. “How are you feeling?”</p><p>He sluggishly takes stock of himself at the question. His body hurts, he’s terribly thirsty, and he is <em> empty </em> inside. Parts of him are missing, both physical and metaphysical. And it is a sort of misery that Anakin doesn’t know what to do with besides fighting off the urge to cry and howl like a beast in pain.</p><p>“About as you’d expect.” Is what he finally lands on, before he starts coughing from his dry throat. Obi-Wan jumps up like he's been set on fire and rushes to grab him a cup of water from across the room. Reappearing back at Anakin’s side seconds later.</p><p>Anakin accepts the straw past his lips gratefully. Taking shallow mouthfuls to soothe his parched throat as Obi-Wan gently scolds him to drink slowly. They both know the warning is unnecessary, since Anakin has never broken the habit of savoring water like it is liquid gold, but Obi-Wan needs to fret over him somehow. So he doesn't bother to point out that fact.</p><p>Once done drinking he looks up at Obi-Wan again. “What happened?” He asks now that his throat isn’t made of gritpaper.</p><p>Obi-Wan sighs and gets comfortable. Leaning closer to Anakin before he starts speaking. “You were brought to the Halls of Healing after we returned from Geonosis three days ago. What do you-”</p><p>Anakin shakes his head, and reaches out with his hand <em> (the only one he has left anyways) </em> and grasps at Obi-Wan’s knee. Since that is the only part of the man he can reach from his position. “No. I don’t mean what happened to <em> me </em> .” He cuts off Obi-Wan quickly. “I mean what’s happened here? Something’s wrong Master, I felt it as soon as I woke up. It feels like the whole Temple is in distress.” He looks Obi-Wan dead in the eye. “ <em> You </em> are in distress.”</p><p>Obi-Wan swallows soundlessly and looks at Anakin for a long time. His face blank enough to impress professional sabacc players. But Anakin can feel the warm and comforting threads of Obi-wan’s presence in the Force starting to fray at the seams. His shields are breaking down with spiderweb cracks that leak with something bitter and tannic.</p><p>Finally his Master speaks up. Blue eyes tired, and hollow, and <em> horrified </em>as he takes Anakin’s hand into his own with a white-knuckled grip. </p><p>“Anakin…” Obi-Wan’s voice cracks. “We’re going to war.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The soldiers who saved them at Geonosis are <em>clones</em>.</p><p>An army of clones, built on the instruction of some Jedi who died over 10 years ago and never bothered to inform anyone on the Council about what he was doing. Master Sifo-Dyas apparently just woke up one morning and decided that the Jedi needed an army, and a weird race of scientists called the Kaminoans agreed to make it. No muss, no fuss.</p><p>It boggles his mind honestly. How does someone just order a whole army like they’re popping on down to Dex’s to get a couple of Shawda club sandwiches? How?</p><p>Anakin spends his whole time locked up in the Halls of Healing pouring over the report that Obi-Wan made while hunting for Jango Fett. Reads every word of it over again and again until he should be able to recite it from memory.</p><p>He can’t, sadly. Because every time he makes it to the end of the report his brain stalls on the final line. Choked by some strange tension in the Force as his eyes trace the aruebesh letters. Mouthing the words as he rereads them time and again.</p><p>“<em> The Clones were created for the Jedi. </em>”</p><p>But somehow, in some way, Anakin thinks that might not be the whole truth of it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“Master, we can’t do this.” Anakin says as they enter the Jedi hangar bay almost a month later. </p><p>Obi-Wan’s shuttle is already warmed up and waiting for him with Arfour attached, Anakin notes with a frown. Ready to take his Master away to his new Venator-class flagship. A move that marks the unofficial start of a war they both are wholly unprepared for.</p><p>“Hush now, Anakin.” Obi-Wan replies quietly as they move closer to the ship. The sting of his retort is softened by a brush of blanket soft warmth along Anakin’s senses. A comforting feeling that Anakin is starting to become very desperate for as everything keeps falling apart around them. “There is no <em> we </em> right now, dear one - just me.” Obi-Wan continues. “I am only going to pick our men up and return with them to Coruscant. Nobody is fighting anything yet, I <em> promise </em>. Okay?”</p><p>It is <em> not </em> okay, but Anakin has already tried everything he can think of to delay Obi-Wan’s departure short of locking the man up. He’s played up his nightmares, his difficulty dealing with the sudden loss of his arm, his frustration with having to take a crash course in human neurology just to make his prosthetic connect to his nervous system and actually feel anything. Whatever he could think of that the Council might feasibly accept and grant Obi-Wan extra leave for, Anakin threw at them.</p><p>They’ve been unusually agreeable to his pleas in truth. Even Mace Windu signed off to let Obi-Wan stay an extra week at the Temple despite the Senate sending out a couple dozen formal requests for the Jedi to get a move on with the whole war nonsense. Or however the politicians had worded it. Probably something a little more along the lines of ‘<em>In spite of recent hardships, the Republic still needs you to fulfill your sacred duty.’</em> Or some other bantha-kark like that.</p><p>“No, it’s not okay. We shouldn’t be fighting at all.” Anakin says rebelliously while crossing his arms. Still haunted by the sight of a Blue pilot falling out of a burning shuttle, and the creeping dread that the man whose spark he’d watch gutter out is only going to be the first of many.</p><p>“I know.” Obi-Wan says softly as they approach the ramp. “I know.”</p><p>Anakin bites his lip and fights off the urge to tug at the comforting threads of Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force. As if he is some little child pulling at his brother’s sleeve for attention and solace from the big, scary world.</p><p>“I’m going to talk to someone about this.” Anakin declares at last. More bluster in his words than he really feels. But with the conviction that he has to do <em> something </em> to slow down this oncoming shipwreck. “Padme might be able to help. Or maybe I can get the Chancellor to see reason and open up talks with the separatists. You know, instead of going for the nuclear option first?”</p><p>Obi-Wan makes a face of distaste like he normally does whenever Anakin mentions politics or Palpatine in a sentence. But unlike normal he nods hesitantly after a second. “I suppose it’s worth a try Anakin. But, do be careful, okay? You know how I feel about getting too involved in the politics of the senate. And with how volatile everything is right now. I don’t want you to get hurt in the crossfire, my padawan.”</p><p>Anakin gives a cocky smirk that is mostly made up of muscle memory and bravado. “Oh don’t worry Master. I’m sure by the time you’re back I’ll have this whole mess sorted out and we can go back to doing the boring missions you like. Maybe go negotiate a livestock exchange treaty on Yobu or something.”</p><p>The overconfidence pays off. Because Obi-Wan actually manages a short bark of laughter and a half smile as he claps Anakin on the shoulder. “Force willing, Anakin. We will be on some backwater farming planet before next month fighting over the price of polygrain and bantha milk.”</p><p>Anakin makes himself laugh and holds onto his confidence until Obi-Wan’s ship clears the atmosphere. Only letting himself run away to their apartment and hide in his bed once he knows the other man won't see it.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Anakin gets his chance to speak with the Chancellor just over a day later. Although he ends up leaving the Chancellor's office feeling like he’s been sucking on a Likon Sourfruit by the end of it. </p><p>It is, admittedly, the first time that's ever happened in his life. Normally when he leaves Palpatine’s office Anakin feels nothing but pride and relief. His friend is the sort to freely give praise and helpful advice no matter how tough the questions Anakin asks him are. Always ready with a straightforward and thoughtful reply to help him cut through the murky riddles that makes up the Jedi way and the Code.</p><p>So when he arrived today for lunch at the Chancellor’s request. (<em> The old man had been worried sick after his long stint in the Halls of Healing while getting used to his new prosthetic. </em>) Anakin came with a whole freighter-load of questions to ask Palpatine. Starting with the bloody showdown on Geonosis and spiraling from there. </p><p>And boy, did it ever spiral.</p><p>“I can’t believe him.” Anakin hisses under his breath as R2-D2 rolls along beside him. The two of them leaving the Senate Tower in a tear. “Knight me early?! A beacon in this dark time?! A true General for the people?!” He pitches his voice higher as he repeats the words Palpatine had used to pander to him when he started getting upset at the old man. “It’s like he doesn’t even see the problem with the war in the first place, Artoo!”</p><p>R2-D2 sends out a rapid series of whistles and binary beeps from his left. “&lt;&lt;<em> <span class="u">Chancellor+Palpatine = Politician // Unit+R2-D2 = Unsurprised</span> </em>&gt;&gt;”</p><p>“Normally I’d defend him, but I think you might be right on this one Artoo. He’s too caught up in the politics of the war to see what's really going on.” Anakin mutters darkly. “He didn’t see all the deaths those droids caused on Geonosis. The numbers were just...staggering. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and I’d really rather not ever again.”</p><p>“&lt;&lt;<span class="u"> <em> Unit+R2-D2 = Compiled database of all names/list/serial codes for soldiers lost at Location;Geonosis  // Jedi+Skywalker = Wants copies? </em> </span>&gt;&gt;”</p><p>Anakin gives a surprised but thankful nod to his droid companion. “Yeah thanks buddy, that was a good idea. Can you send what you have to my personal com? Maybe seeing the actual numbers will help the Chancellor see just how bad this is going to be.”</p><p>Artoo makes a quiet beep that doesn’t translate to anything in basic. More akin to someone humming in understanding than anything else.</p><p>“I still just don’t get it though.” Anakin continues to vent to the astromech, unable to let the meeting go. “Palpatine seems so<em> sad </em> about there needing to be a war in the first place. But then he just assumes that the Jedi and our - I mean, <em> the </em> - troops will be able to manage it alone somehow! Did you notice how he just - just - <em> totally </em> ignored my question about calling in a draft of the Core Worlds for the army?!” He erupts, absolutely incensed at how he’d been straight-up talked around like a four-year-old. </p><p>“ &lt;&lt;<span class="u"> <em> Chancellor+Palpatine = Politician // Politician = Endless-Faulty-Logic-Loop-Error-Repeating </em> </span>&gt;&gt;”</p><p>“Okay, that was just rude Artoo. But I’m mad enough to agree with you.” Anakin huffs out a laugh almost against his will, before losing what little humor R2-D2’s insult gave him. Frown returning like it never left as his thoughts spin back to the war. “Still, how are we supposed to fight with these kinds of numbers and it not turn into a slaughter, Artoo? How do we keep our men safe when we will probably be fighting 40-to-1 odds. And that's only if the initial estimates are right. It could be even higher odds for all we know!”</p><p>R2-D2 whistles a response as Anakin trails off. “ &lt;&lt; <span class="u"> <em> Jedi+Shadow = Different results from User+Government+Agent results. // Unit+R2-D2 = Advanced Calculations favor Jedi+Shadow; 150&gt;=1 </em> </span> &gt;&gt;”</p><p>“I don’t know if you meant for that to make me feel better or worse Artoo, because it definitely didn’t make me feel better.” Anakin reaches up to fiddle with his Padawan braid as he thinks. “Also, please don’t get caught stealing data from any of the Shadows at the Temple. Obi-Wan is liable to take my <em>other</em> hand if he finds out I didn’t wipe you clean for stealing that.”</p><p>R2-D2 sends out a merry series of beeps as laughter. Apparently unconcerned at the threat of a full memory wipe. Not that it’s a real threat. Anakin has never believed in wiping droids memories.</p><p>Still, R2-D2’s calculations make him uneasy. That is a massive difference in enemy numbers that the Jedi Shadows are reporting in comparison to what the Senate’s Intelligence Office is offering up. Not that the SIO’s numbers were very comforting to begin with. But a gap that big is just...worrisome.</p><p>Maybe this is why the Chancellor is not worried about the potential loss of life? Because he’s working off faulty data? Could it be the SIO are feeding Palpatine doctored information to keep the numbers down for the war? It seems like something some <em> sleemo </em> senator would do. Cook the books to make things seem not as bad as they are. </p><p>Anakin bites his lip and decides he'll bring all of this up to Obi-Wan when he gets back. His Master has always had a better head for political games then Anakin does anyways.</p><p>He pulls at his Padawan braid again, and tries to ignore the bad feeling growing in the back of his head.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*eyebrow wriggle* Picking up pieces yet my friends?</p><p>R2-D2: [[ Fukk Palpatine]]<br/>Anakin: "Artoo that was mean."<br/>R2-D2: [[Chancellor+Palpatine = Code Does Not Compile /Dev/Null ]]<br/>Anakin: "Holy shit Artoo! you can't fucking say things like that!"</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>*Trips and drops chapter out of my pocket* WHOOPS.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Obi-Wan enjoys his tour of Kamino about as much as he enjoys political dinner parties. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which is to say - he dislikes the main reason for being there, but at least he can focus on other pleasant things while he suffers through it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although, instead of fine food and wine keeping him occupied. This time he is playing a very serious game of needle in the haystack inside a maze of labs and training rooms. Which is almost better in some ways. Certainly less chance of being poisoned by a politician, or bombed by rebel factions at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, at the very beginning of the tour he’d realized that simply skimming over all the Clones and looking for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Orange</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasn’t going to cut it. There are literally thousands of Clones whose presence in the Force has some tinge of orange to it. Oftentimes the color is just a touch </span>
  <em>
    <span>off</span>
  </em>
  <span> though. Too neon or too mellow. Too fiery or too glittery. Some even seem to be a sunbaked clay color. Shading between orange and yellow and red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Besides his own Sunset troopers, he likes the sunbaked orange as a close second. It’s a good warm color he could see himself shamelessly enjoying for hours on end given half a chance. Or well, he</span>
  <em>
    <span> would</span>
  </em>
  <span> enjoy it, If not for the unfortunate fact that all the Sunbaked-Orange Clones are just </span>
  <em>
    <span>haunted</span>
  </em>
  <span> by this overwhelmingly floral taste. So whenever Obi-Wan focuses all his senses on them it leaves him feeling like he’s just drunk perfume. Which is wildly unpleasant feeling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, the mouthful of perfume does help him realize something very important. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every Clone is</span>
  <em>
    <span> different</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They are unique, and it surprises Obi-Wan just how many of them have parts he can see himself sinking into and appreciating. And yet also having some facet of their Presence be edging on completely disagreeable. Some have parts that Obi-Wan merely finds tolerable. While others catch his interest for only a second before he moves on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s mind boggling honestly. These men are painted in such pleasing colors, seeped in tantalizing tastes and smells, and sing like every instrument he’s ever heard. Yet, it is a real rarity that there isn’t something mildly off-putting in the myriad of combinations. The taste of flowers, the smell of wet dirt, or the sound of something snarling like a wild animal. Just to name a few things he has recoiled from so far. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So trying to find the various Clones who sing like sunset-goodness and well-worn comfort amongst the hundreds of thousands of others around him is proving a touch more difficult than expected. But Obi-Wan is not one to be easily deterred, and he still has half an hour left before he’s expected in the hangar bay. So he keeps looking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody is a steady blessing at his side the whole time, apparently just fine with letting Obi-Wan drag him hither and yon after remnants of color and taste and song. Even being so kind as to not make fun of the Jedi when he started coughing after getting a mouthful of flowers for the first time. Although Obi-Wan is quite sure that his attempts at explaining what was causing his coughing fit flew right over the poor man’s head. Since all Cody had done was confusedly offer to see if he could requisition some different soap for the men so that they didn’t agitate his allergies or something.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart is in the right place, Obi-wan decided with a growing fondness. Good man that Cody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After another few moments of walking down the seemingly endless corridors of Kamino, Cody gestures to a doorway just as white and unremarkable as the wall around it. “This is the Tactical Recon and Intelligence Gathering Training Simulation Room. We call it the TRIG-Room. As the name implies, It is where we are taught how to perform any reconnaissance or subterfuge needed before, during, or after battles, sir.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan nods along gamely as Cody explains about the TRIG-Room. Listing the room’s capacity, and the training rotation schedule, and even mentioning his own brief stint of training here before being chosen for the Command track instead of Recon. Delighted by the commander offering up information (</span>
  <em>
    <span>even if he is a tad bit stiff about it</span>
  </em>
  <span>) without having to be asked for it first. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken a little bit of poking and prodding on his part at the beginning of their tour. But Cody has adapted remarkably quickly to the Jedi wanting him to be chatty. Which bodes well for their working partnership. Because, honestly? Obi-Wan is legitimately concerned he might not be able to work with someone he can’t banter with.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anakin has </span>
  <em>
    <span>slightly</span>
  </em>
  <span> ruined him for always having a sarcastic companion on hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you like to see the interior, sir?” Cody asks as he ends his spiel about the room. No longer waiting for Obi-Wan to request access and just offering it up carte blanche.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If it would be no bother, Commander.” Obi-Wan replies with a smile. The same thing he’s said each time the offer was made. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody nods immediately, and inputs something on the door controls that makes the durasteel slide open with a muted </span>
  <em>
    <span>woosh</span>
  </em>
  <span> of air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The inside is hardly remarkable. It is just as sterile and white as everywhere else they have toured so far. But Obi-Wan notices that the panels on the walls look similar to some of the simulation training rooms back at the temple. The kind that can be configured to display generated landscapes. Though Obi-Wan would bet good credits that this room is lightyears more advanced than the Temple’s holo-rooms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More importantly though, is the group of around forty troopers who seem to have just finished up with some sort of training. There is a Kaminoan overseeing them while the clones finish up whatever it is they are doing. Armor and weapon maintenance maybe? Or checking for something related to whatever simulation they just completed? Obi-Wan can’t be sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what he</span>
  <em>
    <span> can </span>
  </em>
  <span>be sure of is that near the outer edges of the huddle of troopers, is one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> men.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clone before him is a true variation on the theme he’s been looking for all along. Similar to Cody in all the ways he yearns for, but different enough to make it so very </span>
  <em>
    <span>painfully</span>
  </em>
  <span> obvious that these two men are completely separate beings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man before him is painted in splotches and dabs of Sunset-Orange. A kaleidoscope of amber and orange hues all melted together to make one beautiful whole. But the color is dimmed at the edges. Bleeding into the faintest shades of red and purple like night is finally about to claim the sunset. Yet, despite the tinge of nightfall colors, there is nothing sleepy-soft about the rest of the trooper’s presence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, everything about this man seems wired and alive. All the way down to the taste of him. The smokey tang of Ator Black Tea - something sharp, dark, and almost bitter on the back of his tongue. It's the kind of tea Obi-Wan knocks back when he needs to be awake and alert. When the need for caffeine is more pressing than the need for soothing sweetness.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clone’s song is simple string instruments played quietly and low. More background noise than anything to strain oneself over paying full attention too. And there is little in the way of poetry in his song either, more just a rhythmic humming sound twining through the tune. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is so wildly different from Cody’s grand </span>
  <em>
    <span>glorious</span>
  </em>
  <span> choir that it makes Obi-Wan pause momentarily. Because he has to take a moment and fully appreciate the difference between them both.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody’s choir is just so overwhelmingly perfect it still boggles him. Cody just sings, and sings, and</span>
  <em>
    <span> sings</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Loud, and vibrant to the point of almost causing Obi-Wan some pain if he listens for too long. The Force echoes through Cody like the grand finale of a sold out opera. The shattering notes that bring down the house and have people roaring with applause by the end of the number. With tears in their eyes and the song haunting them forever more afterwards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But this trooper sounds so wildly different from Cody's choir. Their song is hushed and indistinct. Barely noteworthy, except for how it</span>
  <em>
    <span> is</span>
  </em>
  <span> noteworthy. It’s like...like the</span>
  <em>
    <span> radio</span>
  </em>
  <span> back in his quarters at the Temple. Obi-Wan realizes with a start. It’s the subspace radio that Anakin fixed up for his name-day years ago. The one Obi-Wan turns on while reading late at night. Just to have hushed music and other voices to fill his room while he settles into bed. It is a comfort no doubt, but one so wildly different from Cody that he almost misses it at first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The final part of this trooper's presence is the bit that Obi-Wan struggles with for a moment. Unable to fully place where he knows this feeling from. Because it's certainly not the blanket soft warmth of the Fuzzy child. Nor is it Cody’s unyielding strength. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, this clone is different. It’s a subtle shift of cloth along his senses. Heavy, yet soft. Coarse, yet light. Muted, and yet somehow still eye catching. It is a well-worn comfort, sure as the sun rises. But it's something also used as a </span>
  <em>
    <span>trap</span>
  </em>
  <span>. A lure to those around who don’t suspect what the softness is hiding tucked beneath. A shroud around him. Armor for the unaware. A</span>
  <em>
    <span> robe </span>
  </em>
  <span>that shields his nervous ticks from sight, and obscures his weapons so he’s underestimated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The trooper before him is the perfect mixture of clever and comfort. And Obi-Wan wants to meet them </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cody,” Obi-Wan hears himself say as he stares at this new thread in the weave standing before him. “Do we have a moment to speak with the men here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Commander doesn’t do anything outwardly to show his surprise at the request. But Obi-Wan notices the shift in his presence anyways. A small ripple that tells him Cody was not expecting the question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he’s surprised Obi-Wan is asking to stay and chat? In the other rooms they’ve visited so far he’s been more than happy to keep moving after only a brief glimpse inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It could also be due to the Jedi asking for permission to take time and talk with the people here. As if Obi-Wan will just </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span> if the Commander tells him no. Like Cody has the power to order him around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe it is simply due to how easily the man’s name rolls off Obi-Wan’s tongue. How quickly he defaults away from Marshall Commander, and instead just calls for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cody </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he wants the man’s attention</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>It surprises Obi-Wan too, how quickly the name falls from his lips without thought. How quickly he calls out for Cody with all the air in his lungs, just as his heart beats the name Kote with each pulse. It surprises him how fervently he sings for </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>GloryGloryGlory </em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>in the spaces between both names. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>And yet, he still feels like something is missing. Threads loose, and lost, and tangled up. Leaving him threadbare without them all.)</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It seems like their training is over for the moment, sir. So I'm sure you can convince the overseer to allow you a few minutes to inspect the troops.” Cody finally answers after a moment of obvious deliberation. His tone is modulated from his helmet, but the word choice is obviously a lead for what to say if Obi-Wan wants results. Which causes Obi-Wan to hide his own delighted grin at Cody’s help. Trying not to be</span>
  <em>
    <span> too</span>
  </em>
  <span> blatantly obvious with how much he enjoys Cody aiding him in maneuvering around the Kaminoans and getting what he wants.    </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excellent commander.” He says with a small smile he’s not fully able to wipe away. “Do you, by any chance, know the Overseer’s name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody sadly shakes his helm with a quiet, “No sir.” Obviously displeased for not having the answer for the Jedi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan waves off the commander's sudden burst of static-laced chagrin before it can fully infect the man’s song. It’s not as if Cody has any reason to feel bad about not knowing every single person in the facility by name.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Honestly, Obi-Wan still meets people who live at the Temple that he can’t recall the names of. And he’s been living there his whole life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s no problem Cody.” He absently soothes the man’s distress, despite there not being a physical tell to betray it's there. “I just wanted to know for extra effect.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You...can’t tell what it is, sir?” Cody hesitantly asks him, still obviously unused to asking questions and not being reprimanded for it. “Like you did with me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who? The Overseer?” Obi-Wan asks as he turns his full attention back to Cody, and away from mentally preparing himself to deal with the unknown Overseer before him. “Oh no, I’m afraid not. The Kaminoans are very…” He looks at the Kaminoan in question, both with his eyes and with threads of the Force. Attempting to feel them out like he does with the clones. Only to be completely unsurprised when it doesn’t work. His probing slides off them like he’s touching glass, or sheer-ice, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothingness</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Leaving him feeling like he just touched at a spot in his mouth that is missing a tooth. It doesn’t hurt, per say. But it certainly isn't a pleasant sensation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Quiet.” The Jedi finally lands on. Unable to fully explain the silence and void that haunts certain people who lack more than a rudimentary connection to the Living Force.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody nods after a second. Accepting Obi-Wan’s words and obviously taking the time to mull them over. Which prompts Obi-Wan to tuck his hands into the sleeves of his robe and begin making his way over to the Kaminoan towering over all the gathered troops.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The slender alien obviously noticed the Jedi as soon as he stepped into the training room, but the Overseer only turns their attention towards Obi-Wan when he gets closer. Giving a small incline of their head in a shallow bow towards the human.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome, Master Jedi.” They greet him without any tonal inflection. Making their voice sound as bland as possible. “I am Gin Si, Lead Technician and Overseer for the reconnaissance simulation rooms. It is an honor to meet you.”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan doesn’t even need to use the Force to know that Gin Si is feeling the absolute opposite of honored right now. “Well met Overseer Gin Si. I am Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi, and you’ll have to forgive me for the sudden intrusion of your domain. I was pulled here by</span>
  <em>
    <span> something, </span>
  </em>
  <span>you understand.” He alludes vaguely, smiling genially at the being towering over him. As if he’s just talking about the weather, and not implying that the very metaphysical fabric of the universe brought him here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.” The Kaminoan says in response, even though they very obviously do not. “Do you require assistance in looking for whatever it is you seek, Master Jedi?” Gin Si offers, blinking their space-black eyes at him and looking about as enthusiastic at the prospect as Anakin does when being dragged away for afternoon meditation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm? Oh no, I think a simple chat with the men here will be all I need. A little bit of an ah...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Inspection</span>
  </em>
  <span>, shall we call it? One can never fully understand what the Force is leading you towards without putting in the work to earn it’s secrets.” He keeps his manner as annoyingly mystical as he can. Knowing full well this particular facade has a tendency to drive off the people who want as little to do with his overbearing </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Jediness</span>
  </em>
  <span>’ as possible. Especially when they can just give him whatever he wants and wash their hands clean of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a tactic that Master Qui-Gon was extremely fond of using. So at least Obi-Wan can say he learnt something useful from his old master’s vehement avoidance of all things political. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gin Si folds without any extra prompting on Obi-Wan’s part. Much to the Jedi’s internal delight. “Of course, Master Kenobi. The training exercise for this group is complete for the day anyways. Please, feel free to inspect the troops at your leisure.” The Kaminoan bows slightly again. “If you have a need for me, I will be in my office. Have a most pleasant day.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as the Overseer practically flees the room. Leaving him alone with the group of very confused troopers and Cody. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well!” He grins as he turns back towards Cody with delight clear in his eyes. “That worked out quite nicely!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes sir.” Cody agrees from his left, all while the sunset-orange colors of his presence glows with amber-amusement. “I’ve never seen a Kaminoan move so quickly before.” The commander tacks on. Which startles a laugh out of Obi-Wan. Because he honestly wasn’t expecting Cody to actually poke fun at the Kaminoans, at least not yet. Not without a little more prodding on the Jedi’s part to let the man know he was free to say whatever was on his mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I tend to have that effect on people when I want too.” Obi-Wan unfolds his arms from the sleeves of his robes, returning to the more relaxed posture he held prior to approaching Gin Si. “Though I’m afraid I have nothing on my old Master. He could drive away even the most patient of souls with only a handful of words and a smile when he wanted to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He sounds like an interesting man, sir.” Cody replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan smiles a little more wanly at that. “He certainly was.” Is all he bothers to say in response. Not wanting to dredge up the full memory of his late master at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody obviously gets the message loud and clear, and doesn’t ask anything else about Qui-Gon Jinn. Instead turning towards the group of clones in front of them and gesturing at the gathered masses. “Is there someone here you wanted to speak with specifically, sir? Or just a mass address to the men?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shoot, he had not thought that far ahead actually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah…” Obi-Wan hesitates noticeably. “Oh dear, well...There is just one I was hoping to speak with, but that seems awfully rude to ignore all of the men after causing such a fuss…” He bites his lip in thought. “I don’t want to offend anyone, Commander - but I did not plan a big speech or anything here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody doesn’t sigh and shake his head in exasperation like Anakin would have done. Nor does he start laughing at him like Quinlan would have doubtlessly begun doing. Heck, he doesn’t even smack Obi-Wan upside the head for rushing headlong into nonsense like Bant used to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, instead - because Cody is</span>
  <em>
    <span> perfect - </span>
  </em>
  <span>the man simply says. “Yes sir, I’ll speak to the rest of the men about their session while you speak with whoever it is you need to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Obi-Wan has to literally bite his tongue to keep the noise that wants to escape trapped inside at the man’s easy words. Afraid he’ll scare off the Commander if he suddenly starts making dying Purrgil-whale noises out of nowhere. But he is beyond touched that Cody is willing to just roll with his impulsive desire and help to facilitate it happening. “Thank you, Cody.” He manages to choke out around the tangle of words and noises that want to come spilling out instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody just nods and takes a few steps forward. Effortlessly catching the attention of the men in the room. All of whom snap a salute before moving to parade rest at a motion from the Commander. “This is Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. General of the 212th starting today.” Cody introduces him rapidly. His voice carried out over the crowd without the need for him to speak any louder than normal. “One of you is lucky enough to have personally caught his attention.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a cacophony of surprise at that statement. Not outwardly of course. The men are all far too well trained to react where Obi-Wan could see it. But that doesn’t mute their various presences in the Force. Doesn’t stop the din of noise, and flashing colors, and assault on his tongue and nose as the men all light up like Life-Day ornaments in shock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody keeps talking even as Obi-Wan fights the urge to squint his eyes and sneeze against the beating happening to him. “Who here is set to rendezvous with the 212th?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a beat of hesitation, and Obi-Wan’s eyes immediately narrow down onto his man in the back. Waiting with bated breath for him to raise his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t. He stays perfectly still in parade rest with the others. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of his comfortably-</span>
  <em>
    <span>clever</span>
  </em>
  <span> trooper, a man next to him raises their arm. And suddenly all Obi-Wan can taste is Ator black tea in the back of his throat. Oversteeped and cold, tannic and bitter. Disappointment washes over him like the tide, and the Jedi doesn’t know if the feeling is solely his own or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has to fight back the urge to frown at the other clone. Taking in all the parts of this man who is apparently set to join the 212th in just under half an hour. They are washed-out in glittery seafoam green, taste like brine, and sound like hollow reed pipes. The tang of saltwater on his tongue is the only thing overtly unpleasant to his senses - but Obi-Wan has never much liked pastel colors either. He’ll admit the reed pipes are nice though, they have a soothing lilt to them that he can enjoy. So at least some part of this trooper is compatible with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>(Compatible isn’t the right word. Similar is closer, but also wrong. This man was not made for him. Obi-Wan has no thread to them. Not his, not him.) </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody turns to look at his general. His face still hidden behind his helmet, but Obi-Wan gets the sense that Cody is waiting for...something. His presence braces again, swoops to simplicity as he waits for words from the Jedi. It's that feeling he had right before he was submerged in </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonder</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Is this the man you were interested in, sir?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan feels terrible as he shakes his head, and shoots an apologetic look at the seafoam-trooper before turning to Cody. “I’m afraid not, Commander. One to the left is the man I wanted to speak with.” He has to fight not to let out the mournful noise he wants to make at the way Cody’s presence trembles at the dismissal. He’s moved something in his commander’s foundation with his words. Caused a snag where stitchs had been flowing smoothly before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody doesn’t let on to any of his feelings outwardly of course. Instead motioning to the man Obi-Wan desired to meet and calling him forward. </span>
</p>
<p><span>He’ll need to fix whatever miscommunication has suddenly come between them, but before he does. He really, really needs to speak with his clever trooper and</span> <span>figure out what is going on.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>The dabbled-sunset trooper shuffles forward without any hesitance, but at his side - the glittery-seafoam clone seems to collapse in on themselves. The lilt of pipes going hollow and haunting in a way that makes goosebumps rise on Obi-Wan's skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s made the poor man sad. And strangely, it feels like he’s done it before. Like he’s experienced an echo of this very same sadness at some point in his life. It’s the tang of salt and mourning woodwinds.The pain of glittering sea glass cutting him to the bone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>(Where though? When? It was someone soft, someone close. Someone who's cried the grief of oceans in his arms.)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait.” He hears himself say before he can stop it. “You too, my good man.” He motions the 212th trooper forward before he can think about it. Curiosity and guilt making him bring the seafoam man along, despite his initial dismissal. “I’d like to speak with both of you.” He clarifies when his clever-trooper hesitates midstep on his way towards the Jedi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sir?” Cody murmurs at his side, his voice a touch too quiet to be carried by his vocoder to the other men in the room. But the question is blatantly obvious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He isn’t the one I’m looking for, Cody. But he is familiar.” He offers up. “I’d feel terrible if I left him sounding so hollow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cody seems awfully confused by his words. But that doesn’t stop him from nodding along anyways. The same thing he did when Obi-Wan had his perfume incident. “Understood sir. I’ll speak with the rest of the men then. If you need privacy you could probably step into the control room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shoots Cody a grateful smile and clasps the man on the arm for a second. “Thank you, Cody.” He says gratefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The twists and snags in his presence are still there, but Cody’s song gains a new note. A vibrato that rings with warmth. “Of course General.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Obi-Wan lets the soothing warmth of Cody’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>glorious</span>
  </em>
  <span> presence ease some of the tension in his shoulders before he turns to the two men stepping up to him. Motioning to the pair to follow him a little further back into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This way gentlemen.” He says lightly. Falling back on his typical mannerisms as he steps away from Cody. “I hear there is a lovely control room we can commandeer for this chat.” He jokes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His sunset-trooper’s presence flickers with amber-tinged amusement at the jest, while the seafoam-man takes on a brackish-tang of confusion. But they both follow him without question regardless. Falling in line a half step behind him as they move.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, one for two isn’t bad. And it’s a solid hint to help him figure out who the other clone reminds him of. It’s definitely someone who doesn't find his reflexive jokes very funny.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sadly, that doesn’t narrow it down all that much.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Obi-Wan: *Incomprehensible Force-babbling and bad jokes*<br/>Cody: "I have no idea what you are saying, but I love you."</p>
<p>This chapter was actually set to be broken up into multiple brackets like the first two chapters. But Cody and Obi-Wan refused to stop being gay at each other so I had to split it. </p>
<p>Please gimme your guesses on who each person is. I delight in watching you all flip in the comments. I gain a year on my life for every !!! you keysmash at me.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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